Thursday 31 December 2020

Leaky dams and sneaky cats

With all of the rain we had recently, powering in from the south-west, it was a good time to see how the leaky dams were doing … and they were doing well. Interestingly, the first dam held back a lot of gravel, while the second now has a bank of silt. Hopefully, the latter will persist, providing materials for the swallows and martins later in the new year.


The grass in Goyle and Rabbity Woods looks decidedly lush compared to the grazed hill on the other side of the fence, although there is a nibbled strip along the edge where the ewes have been pushing their heads through the wire. Wild watercress has colonised large parts of the water, now that the cows are excluded, and even though it is winter, there are visible changes. Yesterday, a grey wagtail was scouting up and down the stream, while a wren is often seen sneaking around lower down. Both new woods have been patrolled by buzzards, barn owls and our now resident kestrel.  All are also seen in the garden, the buzzard looking a bit daft perching in one of our small fruit trees. I keep expecting the branch to bend over and leave her hanging upside-down.

Although grazed, the rough grass in the fields is being used regularly by a different suite of birds. Huge flocks of starlings come in to feed on worms and whatever happens to be attracted to the dung, the magpies and carrion crows make a living, and teams of fieldfares and redwings strip the bushes of any remaining berries and hoover up bugs.

Just outside our living room windows, where Farmer Ian puts down grain and has some peanut feeders, our very own Heathrow has evolved, with a full schedule of take-offs and landings from dawn until dusk. Doves always seem to arrive in pairs, and then strut around with exceedingly vacant expressions. There has been an influx of blue tits, dangling from any available toehold, and thinking nothing of crawling into the Christmas wreath on the door to firkle out reluctant insects. The sparrows have taken over the swift boxes and martin cups, snuggling in groups to keep warm, and occasionally popping their heads over the edge to chat or hurl obscenities at their neighbours.

So far, it appears that the phantom cat is not interested in birds (good), other than one night stealing a brace of partridge that our neighbour had given us. Not a feather or any sign left that they’d ever been there. To date, I still haven’t seen said cat, but s/he is doing a pukka job of keeping down the rats (although the leaving them as gifts we could probably do without).

We've also had some interesting fungi...


Roll on spring - there are a few brave primroses and snowdrops starting to flower, and daffs are starting to poke out their heads ... but as it is currently snowing, botanical caution is advised.



Saturday 14 November 2020

New fields, new woods

 

Autumn is the season for hedges and planting trees in the farm calendar (among many other things), so in between dealing with sheep and cattle, we've been hacking on with the new fences, laying hedges, coppicing and filling in gaps, both here and at Farmer Rob's gaff. This year we had a Woods for Water grant, with the aim of increasing tree cover and protecting the stream from hoofed paddlers - both elements improving the quality of the water that makes its way into the Mole, with the added benefit of being a tiny part of the government's goal to plant millions of trees. Our agreement split our large (and imaginatively named) Over The Road field into two, with the goyle and stream being fenced off and 400 trees planted in the stock-proof interior, with a second block of 200 or so saplings on the hillside, again protected from nibbling, both by fencing and tree-guards (pesky rabbits and deer). At the same time, we also split a second large field (Below The Farmhouse) into two (Far Hill and Burch Lane ), giving us five fields on the lower side of the road for stock rotation. As well as fences and new gates, we've installed water troughs and replanted some of the barer parts of old hedges ... and even saw a kingfisher on the stream while chain-sawing! As an added bonus to wildlife, we're creating lots of small leaky dams in the stream to slow the water and make more permanent water features. While faffing with logs, a dragonfly came and landed on my construction, I guess giving her seal of approval.

Looking up the hill - before we started.
En route - digger and dogs.

Fences, trees and dams in place.

We did have some "help".

Farther up the valley.

Dams in place.

More "help".

Ned wisely keeps his own counsel.


Introducing Goyle Wood, Cross Field (left) and Sonny's Side (right) ...
... and back down the valley, Rabbity Wood.

This tree planting game is a long one, but we should see a big difference in ten years. In the meantime, a few more photos of dog shenanigans.

While coppicing at Farmer Rob's, on the other side of the field Scout, Harry and Flossie have a Mexican Standoff.
 
Genuinely, I have no comment.

Guess who are seriously dischuffed about being relegated to the trailer.


Monday 12 October 2020

Ann's mini-dairy

 


We recently took the opportunity to have a weekend away on Dartmoor, staying at The Three Crowns in Chagford, which means that someone had to cover the beasts, domestic and domesticated. That someone, of course, was the wonderful Ann. Here's her mini-diary!

Friday pm

All settled in. Scout decided that I looked good enough to eat, in small nibbles. The owl flew past the window and I was able to watch it quartering Sonny's Patch. It also sat on the shed roof for a while, then headed off to check the next patch. The sky was amazing when the gang went out for their last wee - cold though!

Saturday

A lovely sky greeted me, and I took the dogs out and walked as far as Rabbity Wood (more news on that in a later post) - got drenched on the way back by a lone small black cloud! Tony came at 8 to help tube the calf that refuses to suck, and things went well feeding the others. Ned had the first bike ride - all was fine. Harry came to Burch Lane, and then Scout joined me for Richard's fields. I saw some deer in the field above Holt's Cleeve. I could have done with some binoculars as it looked like they had a beautiful stag in attendance.

Sunday

The reds were up this morning when I took the gang out. Tony came early and was bedding up the calves when I arrived at the sheds. We got the poorly ewe up and I offered her some of the tasty calf mix to tempt her. She liked that and then had a nibble of hay. I had a few light showers on my rounds. Ned again had the first trip, followed by Harry and thne Scout. Farmer Rob came with calf cake. We move the smaller lambs in Little Field into Gratton, but had to catch the blind one as the rest of the flock rushed out of the gate too quickly for her to follow*. A few cows managed to get through to Far Hill as the gate was open, but they came back easily with Harry in charge! Neil and Amy came at calf feeding time and they went to have a look at the new Goyle and Rabbity Woods. Amie would like to come and help plant more trees if there are any left to do during half-term. I picked the apples in the orchard - sadly not too many left on the trees, but the ones that were there are beauties.

Monday

Tony wasn't able to come this morning so the calf has not been tubed yet - you'll need to do it when you get home. I managed all other jobs, except going over to the Peek District as I was getting wet and cold. Scout was a bit short-changed and could do with a little excitement later. The salt lick from Little Field is by the bottom Gratton gate waiting to be taken up over. Neil brought up the trailer for me to get a bit of dung for the roses, but it was too wet this morning so I'll come later in the week. It's been left in 8 acres. Sorry, but I brought part of a bale of straw into the house during my stay!


* the blind "lamb" is the same one from two seasons ago, born with no eyes and a cleft palate! After keeping her alive for a few days and expecting the worst, she has thrived and is still here 18 months later, hanging out with this year's smaller lambs. Who says farmers aren't soft-hearted sometimes?



Monday 28 September 2020

It really is a dog's life!

 


As always, the dogs are the central characters in our lives, much to the chagrin of the livestock. They've also had a busy summer ...

... riding in the back of the Landrover ...
... and looking really pleased with themselves as they do it.

Hay-making was exhausting for them ...

... so much so, they opted for another nap.

Ned needed to cool off ...

... at various venues ...


... joined by Harry when it all got a bit too warm.

Then back up to the deck for a quick snooze ...

... and the good old sleight of paw switcheroo onto the furniture when no-one is looking.

No idea who these two fools are (with Sonny sneaking into the background) ...

... but at least Harry thought it was funny.

Summer catch-up


Three months have gone by, and now two blog posts back-to-back. You just can't get the staff these days. Here's a brief pictorial hint at some of the things we've been up to over the summer.

Sheep have been down the hill and back up again.

Cattle have been up the hill and back down again.

Irene came to help with clearing for new fences...

... and did most of the work with Farmer Ian, while I faffed with the chainsaw ...

... achieving great things ...

... and contributing to yet another log pile.

Barn owls successfully nested in the old silage pit.

The new young bull Paddy arrived and got busy in one field ...

... while in another we helped deliver ...

... a lovely set of twins.

The wild bird food plot really took off ...

... and the garden went into overdrive ...

... despite the unpredictable weather (don't worry, we've got good damp-proofing).

Most recently, this year's weaning calves have arrived ...


... including one with a strange ear tag. Your guess is as good as mine.

Thursday 18 June 2020

Feeling a little territorial, are we?


Our delightful swallows have a dark side. 

Every day a somewhat irritating recently-fledged male sparrowling sits on the chimney of our BBQ and cheeps to his parents. On and on, relentless, from 5am. Mr Swallow is clearly as bugged by this as I am, and has taken to launching himself off his perch, physically knocking the fledgling to the ground, and taking up watch again. I'm conflicted - slightly sorry for the sparrow, slightly grateful to the swallow, and slightly shocked that I love watching it happen. But only slightly.